Rome, 1898
by Killashandra Falta
Summary: This is a one-off with The Doctor and my OC, Shana. I am considering posting a story or two here, depending on the love my short bits get. I do not own the Doctor, the TARDIS, or anything else related to Doctor Who, save Shana. Reviews are welcomed, but don't feel like you HAVE to review. Thanks for reading!


Rome, 1898. Late Spring.

She sat demurely at a small table outside a cafe, sipping gingerly at her glass of lemonade. She was terribly thirsty, but she was unable to drink much due to her painfully tight corset.

She hated these time periods, where the fashions had no true purpose except to enslave the wearer. She knew about slavery. She knew way too much about slavery. And torture. Sitting in a Mediterranean city in the late spring, wearing a floor length dress, and three or four layers of underthings, plus a hat, gloves, and incredibly painful shoes... Yes, this was beyond simple slavery and torture.

And it's self imposed.

She growled loudly, drawing attention to herself, she noticed, so she tried to cover up the faux pas by raising her hand to her mouth and coughing a polite, society approved cough. She then gently brought her napkin to the corner of her lip, tapping gently.

Damn society rules.

After two hours, she finally caught sight of him. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

She couldn't help but grin, and swallow a chuckle seeing the old man. Literally, a old man. Wrinkly, white hair, and antique clothing even more dated then hers. A young woman was walking with him, and her memory reached out for information, matching her face with... Susan. His granddaughter Susan.

She got up from the cafe table, opened her parasol, and casually walked over to the Blue Police Box that sat quietly on the sidewalk.

She watched as they approached, young Susan running her mouth over the fashion, the ideas of the day, society on the whole, and what ever else her mind decided to think of. The Doctor reached for his key, and looked up, seeing her between him and the lock on the door to the TARDIS.

"Hello Doctor," She said, collapsing her parasol down.

"Hello Madame," He replied, his eyes searching his mind to find a memory of her.

"Susan, I need to speak to the Doctor for a moment, would you mind waiting in the TARDIS for him? It shouldn't be too long." Susan looked at her, and then to her grandfather, and then back to her.

"It's all right dear, go ahead," The Doctor said and Shana smiled, and then snapped her fingers, the door to the TARDIS behind her opening. Susan inhaled a quick breath of shock, taking a step back before her grandfather rested a hand on her, nodding. Susan nodded, entering the TARDIS whose doors closed behind her.

"I am afraid I haven't had the pleasure," The Doctor said.

Shana smiled. "No, you haven't. Not yet." The Doctor's face changed, a look of anger creeping over it. "I am here, not to change time, not to even touch it even. I have come here to deliver a message to you," She said, calming him.

"And how were you able to access the TARDIS," He asked, it being the most important question to ask first.

"Ahh, yes, that. She and I have a... agreement." Shana smiled at him, looking deeply into his eyes. "Oh, you are so young, aren't you?"

"I'm really not," He replied. She nodded, a knowing smile settling on her lips. "I do not wish you to deliver your message. I am a observer of time. I do not interfere."

Shana's gentle smile grew into a grin and she nearly barked out a raucous laugh before remembering the rules of society.

"It won't change time, or history, but hopefully it will save a bit of struggle in the future." He looked at her, his mind trying to figure out her cryptic words, but she only shook her head.

She began to take her gloves off, and then she reached up taking a hat pin out of her hat, and then removing her hat, shaking her hair out. Her dark hair dropped down along her shoulders, and she smiled. She reached up then, removing the contacts she had installed, changing her eye colors. She blinked a few times once they were removed before looking at him for the truest first time with her own eyes.

"Doctor, the message I have for you is terribly simple, and it's two parts. One part you will forget, and one part you wont remember."

"I'm sorry my dear, but that doesn't make sense," He said, entranced by her silver eyes.

"No, it makes sense, and you will realize it later." She looked deeply into his eyes, as mesmerized by his young eyes as he was as entranced by her silver ones.

"The first part," He asked, and she smiled.

"The first part is, you don't lie to me. You and me, no lies. From this point on, no lies." His eyes squinted at her, not sure of anything at this point, but why would he lie? Or, why would he lie to her, and who is she?

"The second part?" She smiled at his question, raising her hand to his cheek. She leaned forward and placed a sweet, soft kiss on his lips, and then tilted her forehead, resting hers against his. She pulled away, seeing so many emotions running through his mind and his eyes.

"The second part... The second part is simple, and yet, oh so not simple. It's the most complicated thing in all of the universe." She reached up, running her fingers through his long white hair. "The second part is that I Love You."

She stepped back then, raising her wrist and the fingers of her right hand pressed the Vortex Manipulator, and she disappeared in a puff of electric smoke.

The Doctor entered the TARDIS, walking slowly to the console, his mind going over the words from the young lady.

"Grandfather, are you alright?" He looked up at her, and gave her the soft smile only a grandfather can give.

"Yes dear. I am always alright."

She materialized back in the wardrobe, and she grinned at the job she just accomplished.

"That was a dirty trick," The Doctor said as he came out from hiding behind a rack of clothes.

"Yeah, I know." She looked down, hiding her grin from him.

She felt his hands pull her to him, and sighed wrapping her arms around his torso, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of him, leather and time, grease and musk. She loved the feeling of his leather lapels against her cheek.

"You still love this daft old man," He asked, and she swore she heard his hearts pause at the question.

"Yep. Always," She answered. He held her closely, his lips crushing hers, before he helped her escape the horrid clothing of 1898.


End file.
